Berserk: Warped Destiny
by TheFriendZone
Summary: Guts has faced adversity since day one. From battlefield to battlefield, she has only left behind blood and bodies. But now the legions of Hell are gunning for Guts, and it will take every ounce of her strength to fight them off and be able to see the morning. With an incomprehensible threat on the horizon, will the warrior-woman be able to stay alive? And human...?
1. Chapter 1: The Black Swordsman

Heat. That was all that could be felt. Intoxicating, delicious heat that melted the senses. Every second lasted a millennium of pure bliss. Waves of ecstasy crashed through her as that glorious heat built up once more.

"Yes..." she moaned out, wrapping her arms around her personal messiah. The grass and leaves crunched beneath them as the powerful figure looking down at her sent chills down her spine. Another sharp push into her entrance set loose more moans, which flooded the vast forest. Trees went on for miles as they laid in the only clearing around for miles, set next to a small campfire that did nothing to shake off the bitter cold. "That's goood~!"

The woman's moan grew deeper, almost guttural. Every few seconds she tapped against the cold, iron monstrosity the stranger had for a left hand. In the deep darkness of the night, she could only see one bright white space for a left eye. She didn't mind. It made no matter. Especially then.

Bones cracked like twigs. The beautiful woman's flesh tore off in sheets, exposing blackened, slimy scales. Her jaw snapped open, exposing horrifying, razor fangs that filled her mouth. Eyes turned as dark as the emptiness around them. Tentacles slithered across the ground as they exploded from her back, tearing what was left of the disguise into shreds. Arms stretched into gnarled, corrupted mandibles, with horrid, monstrous claws for hands. What was once a gorgeous woman's face stretched and expanded into a nightmarish deformation of a human being. The moans turned deep and inhuman, piercing the ears. The claws closed around the figure, the transformation complete.

"I've got you now!" the beast shrieked as its disgusting legs wrapped around the figure. A tongue slithered from its hungry maw like a serpent, sliding across its victim slowly, taunting them. "How fitting to taste heaven before falling to Hell-!"

That hunk of iron flew into the open mouth, silencing the creature. It wasn't sure, but the monster thought that it could detect a sneer from the would be victim.

"I've got you, bitch," the figure said simply, its voice rich and powerful.

An explosion ripped through the forest, louder than a clap of thunder. It was followed by more of the inhuman moans, sounding more agonized than pleasure filled. A small fire stayed lit in the dead creature's cranium as blood flowed from the new opening in the back of its head. Brain matter and fragments of skull littered the burnt ground, all stunk of cooked meat and gunpowder. The figure got to its feet, retrieving the armor and cloak they had on beforehand. All a deep black, almost invisible in the dark night.

The cloak flowed like water in the wind as the figure put on their armor. Wafting, waving, and never staying in one place. The figure had to wrap the tattered and abused cloth around itself, pulling the hood up to hide its face.

" _I need to keep moving._ "

With that, the strange cripple walked off into the forest, not looking back even once.

* * *

The grand, yet utterly generic, castle held a terrifying aura. Merchants took their wares through the large gatehouse, coming in and out at all times. Most tried to slip in without being noticed, others were clearly disturbed by something. Even the guards held faces of pure terror as they scanned the population around them. Mud clung to everything from the boots of travelers to the walls of the titanic gate.

The stranger saw the beaten, broken beggars trying to get enough money to buy a meal, and the knights riding past them without so much as a glance. Tattered, dirty clothes clung to the backs of the townsfolk. The stench alone was enough to make one vomit. Add that to the reeking smell of unwashed horse, and the manure that mixed into the mud, and it was enough to push it far past the point of no return.

A carriage sped through the gate. Sturdy iron bars made the cage, desperately covered with cloth to hide its cargo, along with the rotten wood for the flooring. The stranger caught a glimpse of who was inside. It was a large group of women and some children, all either sobbing madly or completely expressionless. None even gave the figure so much as a wave.

* * *

"Ahh!" a tiny voice shrieked as a knife flew towards it, embedding itself in the wall of the dingy tavern.

The place was a frequent stop for the local soldiers. Ale was cheap and the waitresses were pretty. While the food turned the guts into eels, and the drinks felt like they had rocks inside of them, it was all they had. Smoke from the candles gave the small building a slight haze, blurring the vision slightly. All of the tables and chairs were either broken or rotting. Peasants drank themselves as best they could, trying to forget the state of their lives.

"Shit," a booming voice said, coming from a large, muscle-bound man. His much smaller friend chuckling at him.

"Too bad," the friend said, patting the bear of a man on his back. "Ya missed."

The large man, his muttonchops and mustache the only hair on his head, grunted as he pointed at his target. One large finger attached to a hand equally as large only pushed the bear comparison further. As did the large, dark hide he wore on his back. Covering the area with heavy fur.

"Quit strugglin'!" he said, his accent bleeding into every word. "How am I supposed to hit ya if you keep movin'!?"

Onlookers watched as the target, a tiny elf tied to a post in the wall by a small string wrapped around his neck, pulled with all of its might as it tried to get free. Though it was to no avail. Most peasants tried to ignore it, just enjoying their drinks and what could pass for conversation that didn't end with their skulls caved in by their more violent guests.

"Feel sorry for the elf," one of the bystanders said as he took a swig of ale.

"Nothin' you can do," his friend said, forced to watch the show as his seat faced the direction of the brutes. "Not even the mayor can stand up to the men of Koka Castle. Best not to get involved."

The door opened to reveal a hooded figure, face and body completely covered. Not a single piece of flesh was visibly as it entered the tavern, none noticing due to the escapades of the Koka Castle men and the elf. The figure turned its cloaked head to the men, not saying a word. Merely watching the show take place.

"Hey," one of the men shouted to his companions, "I'm next!" The man laughed as he picked up one of the small knives they were using.

The figure went to bar, approaching the counter where the tender stood. His face was chiseled into a cold grimace. His balding head shined from the lanterns illuminating the bar while his mustache was greasy and unclean. The stranger raised an arm, dropping a few coins onto the bar.

"I'm gonna mess this place up a a little," was all it said. The bartender stared at the outsider for a moment before it opened its cloak, revealing a crossbow with a loading box of arrows sitting upon it.

"You bastards! Untie me!" the elf said, pulling at the string it was tied to. Its rough voice sounded similar to a small boy, as was its body shape. He wore no clothes, being too small to fit into any of them no doubt, and its wings buzzed in the air like an insect's. His blue hair grew out in all directions, like the stem of a tomato. It pointed upwards and backwards, keeping his hair from going to his shoulders. His eyes matched the color of his hair, a light powder blue that verged on bright gray.

"What'll you do if I chew through these ropes myself, huh!?" the defiant pixie continued its rant/tantrum, his teeth biting at the string that imprisoned him to the post.

"I'm gonna shut that mouth of yours!" the bald brute said, holding a knife by the blade between his fingers. "Don't struggle now!"

"Waaah!" the elf cried out as he flew around in a panic, shouting "No way!" repeatedly as he tried to escape the aim of his assassin.

A loud boom rocked the tavern as the bear's head was pinned to the wall, an arrow deep into the side of his brain. Blood poured from the wound and covered the ground, his body convulsing as best it could from its limited freedom. The three other guards stared at their friend's corpse before unsheathing their swords. The metal sang as it was freed from its prison.

"Fucker!" one of the guards said as he scanned the crowd. "Who did this!?"

He was answered by more arrows. Three flew into the head of the man to his right, one directly in his eye, mouth, and throat. Followed by two in the chest. He didn't make a sound as he fell to the ground dead. The other was hit by one in the eye and two in the throat. Another two to the stomach brought him to the ground as well.

Only one guard was left, the bodies of his comrades littering the floor and staining it red. He saw the cloaked figure, a modified crossbow on its left arm, which was metallic.

All in the tavern stared at the stranger, astonished by the ambush. Even the elf stopped its attempted escape and watched in pure wonder. The last guard shook with fear before another arrow drove through his nose, going from one side to another. He shrieked in pain and clutched at the impaled orifice before the stranger grabbed a hold of the arrow, pulling the poor soul along with it.

"That must hurt..." the elf said, covering his mouth with both hands as the smell of blood got to him.

"You're a robber for Koka Castle, right?" the stranger asked, its voice cold and violent.

The guard could only whimper as the pain became too much to bear. The stranger then slammed the arrow into a nearby table, driving it deep into the thick wood. Thick, heavy blood pooled around him, making him gag as it slid into his throat.

"Answer me," the stranger said as they leaned in closer to their victim.

"Tha-That'd righ..." the man slobbered out, his words mushed in his mouth.

"Good," the stranger said, flicking the arrow with a finger. "Now would you be so kind as to relay a message to your master for me?"

The voice was strange to say the least. It was powerful, yet not deep. Intimidating, yet not masculine. Another tug at the arrow made him forget whatever he was thinking about.

"Wh...Whah mighd thah be...?" the guard asked, tears in his eyes. The pain set his nose aflame. He was beyond the point of caring about cowardice. He just wanted the torture to end.

"Tell him that the Black Swordsman has come. That's all," the stranger said, sliding their covered face away from the broken man.

"The Black... Swordsman...?" the guard repeated, the words clear and precise.

The sound of a boot hit the floor behind the stranger. Wood creaked as it announced another player of their little game.

"Behind you!" the elf shouted, its little voice appearing to not reach the stranger.

That is, until they reached into the back of the cloak, and pulled out their weapon...

It was rough, long, and much too heavy to be called a sword. In fact, it was much more of a heap of iron. But what surprised everyone in the bar was the wielder.

The arms were much too slender; hands much too small; bosom much too developed; and hair much too long. In fact, the wielder was much more of a princess than a warrior. Her dark, black eyes pierced the soul of any man stupid enough to stare into them. She towered above all in the bar, well above six feet tall. Her muscles were developed, but not freakishly large. They were toned and lean. Her face had nary a blemish beyond a small horizontal scar on her nose. Her deep black hair was short, but just starting to reach her shoulders. Her skin was light, only appearing dark due to the lighting of the bar. Her right eye was permanently closed, not opening even once.

Where her left arm was supposed to be, an iron monstrosity stood in its place instead. The heavy gauntlet was closed into a fist, its fingers looking blunt and brutal. True to her name, the armor and cloak she wore was as black as coal. Her chest-piece covered all but her arms, which were left unprotected beyond heavy shoulder plates. She wore no helmet, her head free in the wind. The boots she wore were large, especially for a woman. Her trousers completely covered her legs, the flesh hidden by more black. Across her chest-piece was a bandoleer holding small throwing knives, each not even longer than a man's thumb.

The screams of the attacker snapped the crowd's attention back to the action. They all watched in horror as the massive sword crashed into the would-be killer, tearing him completely in half. The top half of his body spun in the air as the mere force of the blow sent the sword into the floor, crashing through the wood like a battering ram. The man's body splashed onto the floor as the peasants were sent into a panic.

"I'm counting on you," the woman said, turning to the still pinned survivor. She forced her way through the scared townsfolk, all checking on the corpses and praying to their god.

"Hey wait!" the elf said as he watched the woman leave, pulling on his bondage. "Wait you jerk!" The door slammed, making it obvious that she was not coming back for him. His head dropped as the realization hit him.

"Ah geez...!"

* * *

The woman walked through the cold, dingy alley as she planned her attack. She knew that the castle would be hard to fight through, especially with how exhausted she was. Other peasants stared at her as she walked past. Her armor and cloak were already stained with blood again. She would need to clean it off before she got any more-

"Hey, wait I said!"

Attention...

"If you start saving someone," the elf from the bar began, huffing as he tried to catch his breath, "You should follow through until the end! Wait up!" The buzzing from his wings irritated the woman, who merely grit her teeth and stayed silent, hoping it would leave.

"By the way, that's an amazing sword," the elf commented as it buzzed near her ear, showing no signs of leaving. "How much does it weigh?"

He got no response from his savior, who only stare ahead as she waited for the elf to go.

"By the way, I'm Puck," he said as he waved a small hand. "Nice to meet you!"

Once again he got only silence.

"Anyway, I was traveling with some performers when we were attacked by robbers," he said, telling his life story. "Since then, they kept me in a birdcage and then marinated me in a wine bottle. It's a miracle I'm still alive!"

The woman really regretted not hitting the elf with an arrow too.

"I've heard that this town has been attacked a bunch of times too, but now the mayor made a deal," Puck said, not even caring that the conversation was one-sided. "In return for losing their freedom, the people were promised that they wouldn't be attacked."

He put a finger to his chin as he flew.

"But now it looks like they might be attacked again anyway," he said. Puck turned to see the woman trekking along, ignoring his words. "It would be a good idea for you to get out of here. If more of those jerks find you, they'll tear you to pieces. And in more ways than one."

He buzzed his way to her shoulder, going in for a landing, hoping to hitch a ride.

"They're not just robbers," he said, inching closer as his wings stopped moving. "They're also the soldiers around here—AAA!"

Puck screamed as the woman swatted him off her shoulder, sending him back to the sky.

"Ouch! Wha'd you do that for!?" Puck shouted, nursing the spot on his backside that stung the most.

"Don't touch me," the woman said, her voice cold and unfeeling. "I'll crush you."

"What's your problem!?" Puck shouted as offense took hold of his system. "What kinda attitude is that when I was being concerned about you!?"

Clanking metal filled the air like a thick rain, deafening the rest of the elf's words. Soldiers brandishing war-hammers, axes, swords, crossbows, bows and arrows, and heavy shields surrounded them. Their armor gleamed in the night sky, a bright reflection due to the battalion's number. No less than thirty men surrounded them, all ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"Would you look at that..." Puck said, nearly frozen to the spot. He saw the woman merely grimace at the troops. "We-Well then, I'll be going!"

The elf flew off, leaving the woman to deal with the soldiers herself.

"Shit..." she said simply.

* * *

 _A/N_

Yes. After several months, I finally have my Berserk thing done. Now you all know the truth...

But yeah, the plan is to adapt the entire series into this with the change that Guts is a woman. It's not out of any kind of "equal representation" bullshit. It's just that the idea interested me.

Anyway, the idea of changing Guts came to me about a year and a half ago. Now I finally have the ability to make it happen! Yay...

But yeah. I tried to keep it a twist because I thought it'd be cool. Sorry to all of you who thought it'd be just a novelization of the manga. That ain't what I do. I write horrible stories that other people think are good, which cause me to have a crisis regarding my abilities!

Also yes, Guts is a large woman. Tried to keep it "close", but not too close. Basically She-Hulk, only not green and has a very big metal thingie she'll hit you with until you're a pile of meat.

Until Next Time!


	2. Chapter 1: The Black Swordsman Part 2

The crack of the whip echoed throughout the empty halls of the castle's torture chamber. Every lick split the woman's naked flesh. She was strung up with chains holding both arms still. Her armor was off, and her beaten and worn body was left exposed. Her trousers stayed on, giving her modesty for that half of her body. However, her chest laid bare for the world to see. The torturer chuckled sickeningly as he took in the sight of the warrior woman being reduced to such a state. No matter how many times he slashed the whip, or how much blood spilled from freshly opened wounds that covered her body, she stayed silent.

The woman's muscles bulged slightly. Not enough to match a man's, but enough to show that she was strong. Her hair was dirty and matted, having been tossed around and unwashed for quite a while. Her arm remained an intimidating sight, even shaking the torturer as he raised the whip for another lashing. The strike landed across her torso, opening a deep slice as it went. The stench of copper choked the both of them.

"You're a stubborn one, ain't ya?" the torturer asked. He was a fat, bald man. The man looked more like a ball of dough than a human being. His dirtied white trousers blended with his pale skin to a frightening degree, making the woman wonder if he ever saw the sun at all. "You can at least make some noise!"

The torturer raised the hilt of the whip to the woman's face, a disgusting smile on his fat face. The portly man's odor made the woman choke back vomit. It was like rotting meat covered in manure. The woman's sight was blurred, unable to distinguish the man any longer.

" _Damn..._ " she thought, her chin being raised by the torturer's whip. " _Too much blood..._ "

She saw the large, diseased looking hands run themselves across her body, groping areas that made her wish her hands were lose to strangle the idiot. Every scar burned as the blob grabbed her breast, a large orb of flesh sinking into his hand. The torturer's tongue stuck out like a boy who saw his first tit, which was probably the case. His maw opened to reveal broken, yellowed teeth. His breath smelled worse than he did, making the woman go lightheaded for more than a few seconds.

"I'll make ya scream!" the whale of a man said as he clawed at the woman's breast, his untrimmed nails drawing blood as they sliced deeper than the whip.

She merely responded by spitting in his face. Her saliva was a deep red, her mouth filling with that copper taste.

"Y-You bitch!" the torturer screamed as he wiped his face, his hands removed from her body. He raised his arm for a strike, pure malice in his eyes. It didn't matter what he did. He was drunk on anger, only wanting to harm the woman who scorned him.

"Enough!" an aged, commanding voice ordered, making the ball of dough freeze in his place. He turned his head to see an elderly bald man with a large mustache. His bright white robes and cap made him look like a priest. His eyes were large and bug-like, making him look horrified at all times. He had two large guards carrying spears behind him. Their heavy armors clattering and deafening the group in the echoing halls.

"B-But!" the torturer sputtered as the old man approached them. "L-Lord Mayor!"

The supposed mayor took notice of the heavy oak table beside the torturer. It was covered with weapons of all sorts. Bags of crossbow bolts, a bandolier of throwing knives, a small but deadly looking crossbow, bags full of a black powder, small bombs, knives of multiple shapes and sizes, and many more things that promised to maim or mutilate if mishandled. Each one sent a chill down the mayor's back. He would have trembled where he stood if he wasn't focused on keeping an intimidating image.

"Does this heap of weapons belong to the woman?" the mayor asked, turning his head to the torturer. The fat man nodded, panting as he wiped his forehead of sweat.

"Yeah," he said, turning to the battered warrior. "Maybe she's plannin' a war all by herself." He spat at the weathered stone floor, covered in stains and dust. "Doesn't seem to know her bounds, that's for sure."

The old man hobbled over to the strung up hostage, his old bones creaking as he made the miniature journey.

"Are you a mercenary?" he asked suddenly, making the woman raise her eye to him. She said nothing, her pupil sinking back to the floor. Blood dripped from her like rain from a roof. It was a miracle that she wasn't dead. "Stranger, you have done something terrible... do you have any idea of this!?" The old man's head had bulging veins, making him look more petrified than he did before. It was as though his natural state was fearful. "Because you killed those men, this town may be destroyed!"

"Those guys behind you that worthless...?" the woman choked out, a sneer on her lips. She felt cold as more blood flowed out.

"What was that!?" one of the guards demanded, brandishing his spear and turning it to the woman.

"Halt!" the old man shouted, placing a withered hand on the enraged soldier's shoulder. He turned to the woman, his eyes dark and empty. "You have no idea how terrifying the master of those men is..." The old man panted as those thoughts flooded into his mind once again. The ones he rather not remember, no matter the cost. "He... or rather _it_ is not human. It is something much more frightening... perhaps even a monster from Hell..." His eyes went blank, as though he was staring off into his own world. "No one can kill him... at least, no human could..."

"So that's why you made the deal..." the woman said, raising her head to meet the mayor. She still held that sneer that sent the old man's blood to boil.

"How could a traveler like you possibly-!?" the mayor screamed, stamping his foot on the floor.

"I understand..." she said, cutting him off before he could continue his rant. "I know. It's a monster that eats humans... I know it very well..." She rose her head, meeting the gaze of the stunned elderly man. "I also know that you send it food. Passed by carriages on the way here," she rose an eyebrow, "Women and kids?"

"I-I am the mayor!" he said in desperation. Sweat poured from his forehead as the lump he tried to swallow in his throat grew four sizes. "It is my responsibility to protect this town!"

The prisoner chuckled, despite burning agony all across her body. Blood stained her lips red, acting almost like lipstick.

"You're confusing 'this town' with 'yourself'," she said venomously, her single eye drilling through the old man without mercy.

He collapsed to the ground, one of his wrinkled hands clutching his chest while the other was pressed against the tarnished stone. His head pounded as the words sank into him. The muscles in his face hardened as he scowled at the smirking woman. He knew exactly how to get everything he wanted.

"Do it!" he shouted to the torturer, who stared at him in confusion. "Hurt that woman as much as you like!" The ball of dough smiled joyfully in response, reading a hot iron poker, glowing brightly from the fire. "But don't kill her! Keep her alive! I will see to it that she goes to Koka Castle myself..."

The sting of the poker on her flesh was enough to make her curl her body. She tried to not scream, letting herself growl as the hot metal burned her muscles. The smell of cooked flesh sent her head into a spiral. She could only take solace in the fantasies she had about killing them all as she watched the old man leave.

"Prepare my carriage immediately," the mayor said to his guard as he left the torture room. "I must go to the castle at once to beg for his forgiveness..."

* * *

The tall, dark, menacing castle held an aura of poor horror. It the type of atmosphere that made even a blind idiot realize that terrible things happened within its halls. The structure stood on a nearby cliff, making it tower far above any of the peasant structures it commanded for miles. The simple stone design made it all the more intimidating, making one feel sick just looking at the beast of a building. In the dining room of the place of evil sat the man himself.

The master sat at his long dining table, enjoying his meal. Exquisite dishes held exquisite foods cut using exquisite utensils. The room was illuminated by a single candelabra, painting the noble in little more than flickers of light. He enjoyed his meal as one of his soldiers reported to him an incident that happened earlier that night at a local tavern.

"The Black Swordsman, you say...?" the insidious man asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He was a thin, serpent-like man. Not a hair touched anywhere on his body except for his head. Even then it was just thick enough to be a small patch of hair on his head, not even long enough to touch his ears. He bit into his food with sharp, monstrous fangs that belonged nowhere inside of a human mouth. His piercing, inhuman eyes could be seen no matter the light.

"Y-Yes, sire!" the wounded guard from the tavern brawl confirmed. His nose was bandaged, wrappings constricting his head and pulling at his long hair. He stayed on one knee, too terrified to look his master in the eye. "Sh-She carried a sword taller than she was! Killed Deen with a single swing; cut him in two!"

" _She?_ " the noble thought, still devouring his meal as the guard relented.

"She also dresses entirely in black," the petrified guard continued, cold sweat covering his body. "Has a mechanical hand too. She's a very suspicious looking one..."

" _Could it be...?_ " the monster thought, taking a bite of exceptionally juicy meat. " _Her...?_ "

"Sir!" a guard in full armor announced as he entered the hall, opening the large, wooden door. "I have something to report!"

"What is it?" the noble asked, his voice slithering down the spines of the two men. It took all they had to not shake right there.

"The town mayor is at the castle gate now," the newly arrived guard explained. "He's requesting an audience with you regarding the incident."

"I see..." the snake said, taking a drink from his chalice of wine. His face contorted into an evil grin, exposing his long and horrifying set of teeth.

The old man that was the town mayor entered the dining hall not one minute after the announcement of his arrival. He tried his best not to look terrified, but his spine tingled with that desire to run that he got more than he wished to admit. His throat felt clogged once again as he saw the lord cut into his steak. Hands shook and his mind faltered when he heard the creature wearing human skin spoke, raising its chalice of wine.

"It's been a while since you last visited me, mayor," the lord said facetiously, that same grin still on his face. The elderly man made him laugh as he begged, hands clasped together as he nearly dropped to his knees.

"My lord," the mayor said shakily, "can't we just forget about this incident?" He removed his hands from each others' grip, placing them back at his sides. "I am unaware of the exact circumstances, and it was committed by an outsider. So it has little to do with the town..."

The noble seemed unimpressed, staying silent and eating his meal. The sounds of silverware on porcelain shook the mayor. Scrapes filled his worn eardrums as he awaited a response.

"I-I'll double the money!" he added, screaming it loudly. "And the prisoners!"

"You look haggard," the snake said, stopping his fork from reaching his mouth.

"What...?" the mayor asked as a sickening feeling filled his gut. It was as though he made a grave mistake.

"Perhaps it's because this time you have your own neck to worry about," the noble said, pointing his fork, holding a piece of meat too hard to make out in the dark lighting. "Isn't that right, mayor?" The snake pulled back on the fork, flicking the meat directly into the mayor's hands.

He could only stare down in horror as he saw the meat his master threw at him was a human ear. The flesh still remained light and bloodied. It held a gentle warmth that only confirmed the mayor's fear that it was fresh, never even touching an oven. He had to force himself not to vomit as he dropped the ear to the floor, falling onto his backside himself. The small lump of flesh stared at him, mocking him for his choices. He did this. The mayor couldn't even scream.

"Money... _prisoners_..." the lord said as he rose from the table, walking to the side of the room that a stool sat in. And on that stool was a particularly nasty looking set of armor. The body was large and bulky, making any man look five sizes larger than they were. Elongated spikes covered the elbows and knees, stretching out several inches to perhaps even a foot. The helmet was what caught the eye the most, however. It matched the head of a cobra. Hexagonal scales covered the replica until it reached the neck, where they disappeared in place of solid plate armor. The mouth of the snake served as the opening through which the wearer would look out of. The fangs of the cobra were sharp and menacing, almost begging for blood to splatter on to them. The lord ran his hand across the armor affectionately.

"I don't care about such things," the beast continued, his eyes drifting across the suit. "I would like to see humans running amidst a great flame. To hear bones crushed beneath horse hooves..."

The lord's eyes slid to meet the mayor's. The large, horrifying pupils stole all words from the mayor. They were unnatural, inhuman. No possible way for a man to have such evil contained within him and have him still be a man.

"I don't need a reason," it said, mouth all too willing to show off those jagged blades. "Such things matter not to me."

"M-My lord!" the mayor begged. The heavy armor of the guards crushed the old man's arms as they took hold of him. "Wh-What are you doing!? Release me!"

The mayor kicked and screamed as the creature stared at him, those piercing eyes not blinking once.

" _The Black Swordsman..._ "

* * *

The tortured woman laid flat on the ground. No matter what she commanded, her body stayed flat. Everywhere ached and stung. It took all she had to not pass out right there. Her hand would twitch, teasing her with movement. But no matter how hard she tried, that same molded hay in her cramped cell would rub on her face.

" _Crap..._ " she thought, gritting her teeth as every inch fought her. " _My body won't move...!_ "

A noise took her attention. In the darkness she could see a small shape skittering about. A faint slithering sound snuck into her ear. She fought her body enough to raise her head a few inches, seeing an alien shape sitting atop a clump of hay. It was deformed and twisted. One bulbous eye stared into hers. It had no limbs. Only slimy tentacles that slapped on the stone floor as it shook. It had large, puckering lips that opened as it took in the view of the half-naked, broken warrior.

" _You again..._ " she growled in her mind as she heard the small bundle of flesh chirp.

The being slid ever closer to her, pushing itself along the dank, dirty cell with its small tentacles. It inched and inched. Every blink brought it closer to her face. She felt cold as it got closer. Her mind left her control as the thing crawled to her.

"Stay back..." she groaned out, still in agony from the torture. The burns from the poker still set her abdomen aflame from earlier. Was nearly touching her face, mere centimeters away.

"STAY BACK!" she screamed, eye wide and filled with hatred.

The puddle of fluid left best not described splashed beside her, getting more than a few droplets on her trousers. The jangle of metal keys was music to her ears as she turned to see what caused the disturbance. In the puddle was flailing limbs and an annoying voice claiming he was drowning. The keys made the savior look as small as one of those hay needles the woman laid on top of.

"Hey!" he said, sitting up from the puddle, his blue hair soaked. "What'd you start yelling for!? You scared me out of my wits!"

The elf known as Puck got to his feet, his ankles still submerged in the puddle. His face went green when he noticed how yellow the 'water' was.

" _Don't tell it's..._ " he thought, trying to choke back vomit.

"You're from that tavern..." the woman said weakly, still unable to move. Her eye shot back to where the monster was, seeing that it had vanished. She sighed in metal relief as she turned back to the elf, who held the cell keys in his tiny hands.

"Did they torture you?" Puck asked, dragging the keys over to her. "You're in really bad shape... Wait, are you wearing a shirt?"

"No..." she said, clenching her fist. The keys were right there. All she had to do was squash the elf, and she could get her stuff.

"You might want to cover up," Puck said, still pulling the keys closer. "It's kinda weird to go around naked. Well, I'm an exception because I'm an elf, but still..."

"Keys," she said sharply, shaking the elf as he approached her face.

"Geez," Puck said, dropping the key-ring to the floor. "Just looking you over, you look like one huge injury!"

And he was right. Lacerations, broken bones, burns, and more than a few extra scars courtesy of the walking ball of uncooked bread's bedside manner made the woman look more dead than alive. Even most men would have died within seconds. Torn flesh exposed parts not meant to see the air. Muscles greeted the dirty floor of her cell as the skin peeled from her body. Her back felt even worse. Deep, long cuts thanks to that whip turned her back into a canvas of meat.

"Guess you should've listened to my advice..." Puck said, his hands on his hips and his nose high in the air.

"Why are you even here?" the prisoner asked, her mind and body nearly disabled with pain.

"To repay a debt," Puck said confidently, a smile on his boyish face. "It's an elf's firm duty!" He approached her shoulder, putting one of his tiny hands on the woman he considered his savior as much as she did to him... hopefully. "Now let's see what I can do-"

"Don't touch me!" she barked, frightening the elf and sending him flying. Her eye was wide and stabbing into Puck, who could only shiver in fear. "Don't you ever touch me!"

"Geez," Puck hissed, his eyebrow raised. He flew back to the woman, who still held a vicious scowl. She looked more like an attack dog than an admittedly pretty faced girl. "It's not like I'm gonna do anything bad to you."

She only growled at him in response, unable to even reach out and strangle him.

"Hey," Puck said in frustration, his wings buzzing as he flew back over to her crippled body. "Take a look at yourself, missy! You're hardly in a position to be ordering anyone around. Now shut up and let me help you."

She couldn't see what he did, but the brute could not deny a numbing sensation spreading throughout her back. It was intoxicating, and it soon encompassed her entire being. Where she once felt fatigue and

agony, she felt reinvigorated and relief. It spread to her neck and legs, drowning her body in the miraculous feeling going throughout her system. The buzzing from the elf's wings would change in intensity, him fluttering around above her.

" _The pain is disappearing..._ " she thought as Puck flew to her shoulders, spreading some powder from his wings onto her. Where ever it went, that numbness followed. Her wounds closed and healed at a rate she barely thought possible. In fact, some vanished without leaving so much as a trace that they existed in the first place.

"Elves have many different powers," Puck said as he stepped away from the woman's shoulder and walked into her sight. "We can heal injuries, sense people's feelings, and some say we can even bring happiness."

The warrior-woman raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," Puck said, raising a finger in the air, "the one who said that was the leader of that troop of performers who got his head cut off by bandits, so..."

The eyebrow stayed raised.

"Anyway," Puck said, flying up to and landing on the woman's right shoulder. "What's your name?"

She stayed silent, barely even breathing at a level the elf could hear. Her eye stared at the wall of the cell in front of them. Her face stayed frozen in a frown. The elf was shocked at how many scars she had. Or that she even killed those guys in general. The women he always saw were peasant wives or nobles dressed up in fancy clothes and gossiping. Not one-armed, homicidal cripples that get tortured for her weekend.

"My name's Guts."

* * *

 _A/N_

So this got another chapter. Yay for me, because I like this thing.

It's still basically following the story pretty heavily, but that's gonna start changing incredibly soon. It's just that I still need to establish stuff and finish up the arc of the actual manga. Some things will be revealed, others will stay hidden.

Some has changed, others basically the same.

But what we all know that Don't Stop Believing is a song no one can hate. That and Danger Zone, because Kenny Loggins kicks ass.

Until Next Time!


	3. Chapter 1: The Black Swordsman Part 3

Puck sat on Guts' shoulder, the woman too exhausted to force the elf off. The tiny creature looked across the tortured one's form, seeing the wounds that the magic dust helped close. She went from being almost dead to a survivable state. Her shoulder felt far too cold, however. The stench of blood choked the two of them, simply resting for what little time the mayor would allow them.

"So why did you come to this town anyhow?" Puck asked, shattering the silence. Guts stayed quiet, not even grunting at him. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to..." he peeped out, realizing his mistake.

A strange sight peaked Puck's interest. His bright blue eyes slid to the side of Guts' neck, where a strange symbol was placed. It looked like a fresh cut, but refused to close, no matter how much dust he sprinkled onto it.

"Hey!" he called out to Guts, pointing at the symbol. "What's that?"

The symbol was peculiar to say the least. A wing tipped spear with two diamonds covering it. At least, that's what it looked like to Puck. The diamond closest to the three flayed heads on the 'spear' was incomplete, cutting off just as the three points jutted out.

Puck felt Guts jostle under him, gritting her teeth as the elf inspected the thing on her neck.

"The thing on your neck that looks like a crest or somethin'?" Puck elaborated on his question, curiosity consuming him.

The world shifted under Puck, sending him flying to the floor. He banged his head against the stone, sending stars to his eyes. He sucked his teeth at the stinging pain his skull was in. He raised a fist to the air when he saw Guts sitting up, staring down at him with one bright eye in the darkness.

"What'd I do _this_ time!?" Puck demanded, an enraged look on his tiny face. He felt his spine freeze when he saw the way Guts looked down at him. It was cold, empty, and horrifying. His lip quivered, despite how hard he fought against it.

Guts raised her right hand to her neck, running her fingers slowly across the cut on her neck. A small, sinister smile was on her lips.

"Brand..." Guts said, placing her hand against her neck. The spot burned when her hand touched it. It barely registered with the woman. "It's the Brand..."

Puck was puzzled by her words. He merely sat on the dungeon floor, cold stone chilling his flesh. The air around him grew heavy, the stench of rotten flesh and stale urine choking out every breath.

"The 'Brand'?" he asked, an innocent smile worn proudly, "What's that? What's it mean?"

The elf proceeded to bounce as he asked more questions. Each small tap of his feet driving Guts crazy.

"Why?"

Bounce.

"How'd it happen?"

Bounce.

"Who did it to you? Huh?"

Bounce.

"You talk too much, you know that?" Guts snapped, piercing the little one's heart.

Puck looked up to the exposed woman, mouth agape in offense. How could she say that!? Elves were naturally excellent conversation partners! She was simply ignorant to their amazing ways.

"You'll find out soon enough," she continued, grabbing Puck's attention and tearing him out of his rant. "He'll come here to kill me pretty soon." She stared out the barred window of her cell, watching the ignorant townsfolk walk to and fro in the distance. "As well as burn this whole town to the ground."

"Oh..." Puck slipped out, eyes wide in fear. He put a finger to his chin, looking to the ceiling, as he put the pieces in his head together. "Does that mean it's those guys from Koka Castle?"

Guts looked down at him with a smirk. A smirk that told him everything he needed to know. That cold feeling in his back returned in full force. Sweat poured down his face as the realization struck him like an arrow in the chest.

"You... you mean..." he stammered, trying to get the words in his mouth to fit together. "You're planning on dragging the townspeople into all this!?"

The woman stayed silent, resting her iron arm in her lap. That same, cynical smirk stayed on her face. Puck felt venom in his veins looking at that smirk. His stomach threatened to force out what he had to eat that morning.

"I don't care," she said, pinning him to the spot. Guts laid back on the dungeon wall, leaning against the rotten pile of hay beneath her. She checked her nails on her right hand as she spoke. "All I want to do is find the bastard and kill him," her words slid out of her mouth like a spider's venom, "I don't care about anything else."

Puck felt goosebumps on his skin. He shook as Guts continued to speak.

"Anyone who dies because they get caught up in someone else's fight is a small fry who doesn't have the strength to live in the first place," Guts said, staring off into space. That smirk melted into an empty smile.

Puck's heart burnt to ashes. He wrapped his arms around himself as his body flooded with pain.

" _Emotions are pouring into me!_ " Puck screamed in his head. Every inch ignited as his heart turned into a raging inferno in his ribcage. " _My chest is burning!_ "

"If someone can't live their life the way they please," Guts said, continuing her speech, "they might as well die..."

Puck fought for control of his own body. Every second that passed brought more of Guts' emotions into his system. His brain was racked by needles. Every drop of blood boiled in his veins. Thoughts flooded into his mind, all trying to explain the intense sensation of Guts' emotions.

" _Is is rage...?_ " he thought, trying to find any sort of explanation. " _No. It's not just that... Rage, sadness, fear; it's all mixed together!_ " Puck shook as it dawned on him. " _So dark..._ " Puck felt a sense of vertigo, like staring into a bottomless abyss. " _And there's something deeper than that!_ "

"I-In that case..." he found himself saying, making Guts snap out of her thoughts. Puck couldn't deny a sense of bliss going through his body, the agony leaving him. "Why did you save me?"

Guts looked down at him, eye wide and shocked. Puck bit his lip as the scarred warrior stared at him in silence. He could only pray that some sense of logic would get through.

That died when she started laughing...

It was a rough, coarse laugh. Nothing a human should have had coming out of them, much less a woman. Rocks assaulted Puck's ears as Guts smacked her hand on the weathered floor, sending pebbles into the air. A sinister smile was on her face, wide and malevolent.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she asked, trying to catch her breath. "Why would anyone save _you_?" She wiped her face with her real hand, the metal one resting on the floor. "To think I'd risk my life for a bug..."

"Bug," Puck said, making sure he heard the word right.

The elf launched directly into Guts' jaw at top speed. She could only grit her teeth, making sure not to bite her tongue off as the miniature cannonball slammed into her. He was tiny, but a light taste of blood licked at her tongue. Stars twinkled in her vision, brain shaking in her skull. Puck buzzed his way towards the barred window of her cell.

"What are you doing, you little-!?" Guts stopped herself when she saw Puck's face, curled in a frown, eyes flooded with tears. The elf fought back the sobs, lip quivering. With that, he flew out of the window, leaving Guts alone.

"Hey, wait!" Guts screamed, getting to her feet and grabbing the bars to the window. "Where do you think you're going!?"

It was no use. The elf was long gone, not even a speck in sight. All that she could see was the sun setting against the town, announcing the end of the day. Guts laid back against the wall of the cell, scoffing to herself.

"What was all that about...?" she said aloud, ignoring the pest's tantrum. Her foot tapped against something metal, it clacking against the rock of the cell. She looked over to see it was the keys the elf brought earlier... to let her escape.

" _Shit..._ " she thought, looking down at rusted ring holding the keys. Her arm burned as she dug her nails into her bicep, the pain not even registering. Blood spilled down her arm as the wound mocked her. She just needed to wait a little longer. Only a tiny bit more.

A sharp, hot spike in her neck made her flinch. Her right hand flew to her neck, over her Brand. Fresh blood met her fingertips, the fluid warm to the touch. Before she knew it, she was laughing. A maddened, sickening laugh. One filled with hunger.

"I've been waiting for you," she whispered, licking the blood off of her fingertips.

* * *

The town was aflame. Simple, wooden buildings turned into piles of ash by the roaring flames. Screams were drowned out by the blaze, melting into the night sky. Cheers of soldiers as they cut down townsfolk were almost as bad as the fire's noise. Blood stained the streets, bodies piling as the army did their work.

"Horrible..." Puck said to himself, watching the scene happen. He flew through a wealthier district. The multistory stone buildings collapsed all the same, crumbling to dust. Elegant rooftops exploded as the fire grew in power.

He could only watch in horror as heads were crushed underneath the hooves of horses. Skulls caved in as the army made their way through. Any townsfolk they could see were turned into human pincushions, arrows sticking out of them and left to rot. Puck could scarcely believe such cruelty. It didn't seem possible that anyone could hold human life to such a low esteem.

The army charged in. Foot soldiers howled as they flooded the city. Cavalry men went full speed, spears sharp and at the ready. And behind them was their commander, taking in the slaughter the only way he knew how.

Just as Guts predicted, the commander was the lord of the castle. Donned in his serpent-like armor, he held a childish glee as he sat atop his horse. Those horrid fangs were large and exposed, slurping up blood as he held a boy up in the air, impaled by his long battleaxe. Only half the child was there, his legs nowhere to be seen as his skin was white as snow. Long dead, the monster of a lord drank up the boy's blood like it was a fine wine.

Puck could scarcely keep his wings buzzing, the only thing keeping him alive as the ground was a death sentence. A cold feeling hit his stomach as he watched the commander.

"Burn everything to the ground!" the lord screamed in glee, riding into the city himself.

"Th-That's not human..." Puck said, watching the sadistic commander charge with his men. Directly in front of them sat a large pile where they had piled bodies. In truth, they just chucked the corpses together without any attempt to give them a proper burial.

The horsemen had every intention of simply squishing the dead into a rotten paste. Their horses had the same mindset, not slowing down in the slightest. The decaying bodies sat there, waiting to be trampled by the feet of their invaders.

However, one figure rose from the dead.

Crossbow on their arm, they took aim at the horsemen.

"Wha-!?" one of the horsemen said, fully covered in thick, steel armor. "Under the corpses!"

"Guts!" Puck screamed, recognizing the attacker.

In the same, black outfit she wore when Puck first saw her in the tavern, Guts aimed her crossbow, fitted onto her iron arm. She wore no smile. Never once said a word. And did not even come close to hesitating.

The bolts flew out of the weapon, a stream of ammunition that decimated the line of soldiers. The tips went straight through the armor of the army, dropping them like flies onto the earth and off of their horses. The soldiers could only scream as bolts flew into their eyes, mouths, throats, chests, killing the entire front line within seconds.

"What the Hell kinda crossbow is that!?" one of the horrified troops screamed to his allies, watching their numbers dwindle as the battle continued.

A savage war cry brought their attention to one soldier running out from the dark, sword at the ready to cut off the savage woman's head. The armored minions were paralyzed as they watched. That man was still screaming as the woman reached behind her, gripped her sword, and swung it.

It was bad enough that the weapon went straight through their friend, sending the top half of his body flying towards the horrified battalion as his legs flew off of the saddle and onto the ground, but the slab of iron went straight through the horse. The animal's head vaulted over the woman's head, splashing her armor with blood.

"Haaah..." Guts heaved, gripping her sword with one hand. Her muscles burned at the strain, threatening to rip her arm off at the elbow. But still, it stayed in her hand, not so much as shaking once.

" _She's so strong..._ " Puck thought, curling his arms against his chest as the tension got to him.

The barbarous soldiers froze in place as a familiar, armored horse appeared. Its helmet held a long, menacing, sharp horn. Its coat was pure, ebony black. It was a much larger horse compared to the others the cavalry used. More vicious. The stallion would eat a man alive, if it had the chance.

But the only thing they could all watch was the rider of the horse.

Puck recognized him in an instant. That horrid, cobra headed armor, coated in red. His battleaxe gripped tight in his palm, the lord approached Guts. The same, toothy grin on his face; fangs in full view of everyone.

"So..." the lord began, voice slithering through the souls of all that were there. "You're the ' _Black Swordsman_ '." He accentuated the title, smirking cruelly as he did. "The one who has been hunting up Apostles. Quite the ironic name."

Guts dropped her sword, reaching into her left-side bag for more bolts.

"I don't know what you wish to accomplish here..." the lord said, rearing his horse, hooves high in the air. "But to think a mere mortal can oppose us is pure folly!" His horse charged faster than a cannonball. His soldiers were convinced they heard a boom as the animal rocketed towards the woman.

The crossbow exploded with bolts. The barrage flying straight into the lord, his ax high in the air for a strike. No less than twenty hit their target, with three flying straight through his head. One of those piercing eyes found itself with a bolt dug straight inside, hitting the pupil dead on. By every account, the man should have been dead.

In fact, that was how everyone saw it. The lord fell from his horse, blood spilling from his lips as the bolts cracked and broke off at the movement. He stayed down for what felt like an eternity. The soldiers were paralyzed. It seemed unreal.

"My lord!?" one of the soldiers shouted, staring down at the unmoving body. There was no way that a woman killed their commander. It was impossible!

"She did it!" Puck declared, watching the battle unfold from afar. The snake was on the ground, filled with bolts, and his men were soiling themselves in fear. It was completely surreal to see.

However, none of them noticed the twitching arm...

He was up before any of them could realize. Those monstrous fangs biting down on the bolt that pierced through his mouth. A dark laugh echoed as he gripped his ax. Blood stopped flowing freely, getting slower until his wounds closed completely.

"Wha-!?" his men announced in wide eyed horror. They all saw how many arrows he took. It's impossible that he would have survived it. It was inhuman. None of the men could help but scream in horror at the sight before them. To think their lord was immortal was a waking nightmare.

Guts' response was less dramatic.

Bolts slammed into the lord at such a short range, the monster of a man was flung into a nearby building, smashing the wooden door to splinters. Guts approached the new entrance, her opponent vanishing into the darkness of the house. She stared into the blackness, trying to confirm it as dead. The crackling flames made it hard to listen for the injured man. Blood spatters covered the floors, leading to nothing but pitch black. The raging fires outside could not even touch the ebony nothingness that those shadows contained. Guts could only watch and wait.

It was too quick to catch. A sudden rush from the darkness.

The horrid, rough scales covered the tail of the beast. Sickening green plates on a serpent's tail. A tail the size of a log that flew out from the black, catching Guts in its path.

She was flown into the air, all watching as the warrior-woman lost her crossbow, it falling from her hands as she crashed into the earth. Guts coughed up blood as the impact sunk in. If it had been anyone lesser, they would have been a pile of meat and metal.

"Guts!" Puck shrieked, flying over to Guts, who scrambled to get back on her feet. Her eye was trained on the doorway, seeing a set of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

" **It's futile...** " a warped, rough voice hissed. The creature slid out from the darkness, what was left of a human face in the mouth of a snake-like head. Bright pink flesh contrasted with dark green scales. A mouth of fangs protecting that horrid face inside of the head of a monstrous serpent. A tentacle for a tongue slithered around in the free air, mouth now just an opening that merged with the flesh of the snake. " **No matter how many bolts you fire into me... A mere human like you can't possibly kill me!** "

" _Shit,_ " Guts thought, mind set ablaze at the sight before her.

The head of a cobra connected to a monstrous body. A long neck connected to a body that dwarfed a human's by any standards. It stood at twelve feet, at least. Those disgusting scales covering every inch of the creature's body. Large, horrid claws scraped the dirt as it walked into the light. Its bipedal legs no longer resembled anywhere close to the human legs of the royal that went into the house just moments before.

" **I'm going to eat you,** " the former lord proclaimed, buckets of saliva soaking the ground. Gallons of drool fell from the slobbering maw of the cobra. A childish glee was clear in its voice. The soldiers could only watch in horror as the creature stomped towards Guts. " **I will eat you alive slowly, foolish whore!** "

"It-It's a monster!" one of the troops wailed in terror. Armor clattered and horses reared in fright as they scrambled to run as far as possible from the beast that defied all reason.

Puck screamed in horror as the beast encroached on Guts, who finally found her footing and slowly stood up.

"It's coming-it's coming-it's coming-it's coming!" Puck squeaked in horror, waving his arms in panic. "C'mon, Guts! Look up, _look up_! What the Hell're you doing!?"

Guts was quickly struck again by the serpent, not giving her a chance to so much as catch her breath. The tail slammed into her stomach, a heavy sweep that made her bones feel like powder. She slammed into the collapsed, stone ruins of a nearby building. More blood spilled from her lips, causing her to howl at the pain. Guts wasn't spared for a single second, slammed again by the tail of the creature. This time, it forced her into more stone ruins, pushing her further into the solid surface.

Red vomit jumped from Guts' throat, coating the ground with thick, red fluid. Guts' head fell hard onto the ground, blood pooling from her mouth. Sharp, ragged breaths still forced themselves out of her lungs. The air was pierced by them, her struggling audible.

" **Still breathing are we?** " the lord mocked, staring down at the bleeding woman before him. " **Most humans would've had their organs crushed after the first blow, and be quite dead by now.** " More fluid leaked from its maw, pooling on the ground beneath it. " **Admirable. But it all ends here!** "

That heavy, powerful tail crashed into Guts' back. Her spine nearly snapped in two from the blow, the agony jolting her into unconsciousness. The once slow flow of blood turned into a river, the red spilling from her mouth like a broken wine bottle.

"Guts!" Puck called out to her, watching the scene with not a single shred of hope to change anything.

" **How pathetic humans are...** " the monster said aloud, wrapping its inhuman claw around Guts' right arm, pulling her into the air. " **Humans are nothing more than food,** " its tongue took its time to slide across Guts' face, enjoying the taste. " **Nothing but mere morsels to fill our stomachs! Food should learn to act like food and-** "

Guts' metal arm flew to the beast's face, a cruel sneer on Guts' face as she held the wick in her teeth.

The explosion was powerful. The creature's head was blown in two, chunks of cooked meat flying free from its body. Only half of the cobra face remained, shredded meat and brain matter welcoming the fresh air. Fire burned its skull as Guts was freed from its grip, the force ripping her from the claw. The beast's claws tried to pat out the fire on what was left of its face.

Guts grabbed her sword, that large block of iron that laid on the ground, calling for her. Her grip tightened on the handle, muscles tensing. The blade slid across the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust. Guts roared as the blade dug into the beast, the rough edge shredding through what was left of the lord's body. It would be an insult to blades to say it cut the creature in two. Instead, it was more so the blunt metal forced the body to come apart, blinding pain shooting through the lord's system.

Organs splattered across the ground as the snake lord fell to the earth in two pieces. Guts was pulled off of her feet from the strike, the force too powerful to keep her standing.

"Gu-... Guts!" Puck flew towards the woman. He watched as she spat more blood, holding herself up on her hands.

Despite how injured she was, looking as if she was staring death in its face, she pushed herself to her feet. Staying up straight was impossible, wobbling from the shock and blood loss. Her teeth were stained pink, red coloring her sinister smirk. She forced herself to the body of the creature, limping towards the beast. Sorrowful moans filled the air as Guts retrieved her crossbow, staring down at the pitiful creature.

"Ew... It's still alive..." Puck clutched his mouth, keeping it shut as he turned green. "I feel sick..."

A heavy stomp from Guts' boot makes the dying creature sob louder than the fire.

"Don't go dying on me yet," Guts said, her face hidden in the shadow the fire behind her created. She held her crossbow over its head. Bolts hit the beast's head, burrowing deep into its brain.

" **Stop! Stop, please!** " it said, tears dotting the eyes of the inner face. More bolts flew into it, searing pain keeping it conscious.

"I thought you said it didn't matter how many bolts I shot at you?" Guts asked, taking pure glee in hearing it beg. "Must be rough, be _unkillable_ and all," she said, pulling more bolts and reloading her weapon. "Like you said, humans are weak. We die easily. But no matter how weak we are, even if we're chopped to bits or stabbed to death, we want to _live_. I'll give you a little taste of what that's like."

Puck watched in horror as Guts continued her torture, shooting more bolts into the bleeding remains of the creature. He couldn't keep himself from staring at the sadistic grin Guts wore as she shot more ammunition into the monster, hearing it scream and beg like a scared child.

" **Who-who are you!?** " the lord demanded, blood drowning the sensitive inner face. He caught a glimpse of her neck. Of the crest on the right side that bled slightly as they talked. " **Th-That.. That mark! It's the Brand of Sacrifice! You are-!** "

"The Godhand," Guts snapped, cutting its words short. Her smirk was gone, pure determination oozing from her being. "Where are they?"

" **Th-That is-!** " the creature's vision went black as a bolt pierced one of its inner eyes. The pain made it beg for death, but it knew the woman before it would keep every second an agonizing hell before then. " **I don't know! I don't know where they are! It's not for Apostles such as I to know!** " Sobs broke its composure. " **I'm telling you the truth...** "

Guts scoffed, turning away from the beast. Her cloak flowed in the air as she walked, a black wave in the burning air. She turned her head, hearing wood snap and stone collapse. A burning wooden beam fell, speeding towards the bleeding beast.

"Take your time and savor it as you burn to ashes," Guts said, watching the beam set the lord alight.

" **Wait! Please!** " the burning monster pleaded, a claw held to the sky as fire consumed it. " **I don't want to die! Help me! Help me~!** " it's roars grew more twisted, warped, and alien to the ear. In no way did it sound like a human's screams, but an indescribable babble that shook the brain to hear.

Puck held his tiny hands to his ears, tears in his eyes. The screams lasted an eternity, piercing his heart as the snake died. He watched Guts walk through the blood and bodies into the night, vanishing among the fire and smoke. She didn't so much as spit in its direction, not looking back once.

As a hollow whisper, Puck could only say one thing.

"Berserk..."


End file.
